Chapter Thirty-Two
Julian
It wasn’t a big deal that Josephine was late for drinks. I didn’t watch the door of Dean’s bar like she was going to stumble in any minute and I definitely didn’t hold my breath every time a brunette stepped through the doorway.
Those would be the actions of a man in love. Me? I was just a regular guy having regular drinks with a regular friend.
“You look paranoid. Do you need another drink?” Dean asked, drawing my attention back to our table.
I held up my scotch, still half full.
He smirked and shook his head.
“Are we expecting someone else?”
“Jo,” I answered.
“Ah, the lovely Josephine.”
I glared at him over the rim of my scotch.
“I thought this was supposed to be guys’ night,” Dean said, swirling his glass on top of the teak tabletop.
“She’s sorta like one of the guys.”
He narrowed his eyes, clearly calling bullshit on me. “I’m fairly sure the double Ds you’re so infatuated with make that the most asinine comment I’ve ever heard.”
I shook my head and took another sip of scotch. Agreeing to drinks with Dean had been a bad idea. He loved calling me on my shit, even when I preferred to brush everything under the rug. I guess the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. My mother must have had fifty rugs in her palatial townhouse, all with secrets and lies shoved so far beneath that they would never see the light of day again.
“Yeah, well, tonight she’s just a friend,” I said, putting the cork in the subject.
He nodded slowly, eyeing me with poorly veiled skepticism.
“Have you thought about what you’ll do after your sister gets released? Will you still help her with the company?” he asked, moving the conversation on to another subject I hardly wanted to think about, much less discuss.
“I’m not sure. We’re right in the beginning stages of building her store. I might stick around for that and then see what other investment opportunities come my way.”
“In Boston?”
I stared down at my drink and shrugged.
“Well if you’re thinking of staying in New York long term, I have a few projects I’d love your help on. I’ve been wanting to expand on a restaurant idea, but I need a partner before I even consider it.”
My brows perked up at the idea. Would I be willing to extend my stay in New York to hang around and see what sort of trouble Dean and I could get ourselves into? The idea sounded pretty tempting.
“There she is,” Dean said with a smile as he held up his drink in greeting.
I turned to the door and watched Jo walk into the bar, stealing the attention of every guy within a ten foot radius.
I had a full grin stretching across my face before I even realized how happy I was to see her. She was dressed differently than usual in tight black pants and a thin black t-shirt. It looked like some kind of work uniform, but I didn’t mind the darker look on her.
By the time she’d wound her way toward us, I’d already forgotten my promise to Dean that Jo was just one of the guys tonight.
“I’m sorry I’m late, guys!” she said, coming to stand beside my chair and tossing her purse down onto the table. She seemed worn out, but she looked great. Her bright red lips stood out in the dim light of the bar.
“Long day?” Dean asked.
Jo laughed and scrunched her nose. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry, I got caught up.”
“With another one of your prior commitments?” I asked with an arched brow.
Jo’s smile faltered as she turned her attention toward the bar, strategically ignoring my question.
“What are you manly men drinking?” she asked quickly, waving down a nearby waiter.
I could feel Dean’s stare on the side of my face but I ignored him. The bastard could save his judgments for someone else.
“Hi. What can I get you?” the waiter asked, beaming down at Jo with more than just a simple smile. Interest was written across his douchey face clear as day.
“She’ll have a Gin Fizz,” I said quickly.
Jo peered over at me. “Is that what I got the other day?”
I nodded.
She grinned at the waiter. “Then that’s what I’ll have!”
“Most women would bite my hand off if I tried to order for them,” Dean said, watching Jo carefully.
She shrugged his comment off. “Julian’s pretty good about knowing what I want.”
I watched as the full meaning of that comment took hold for her and then smiled as a blush overtook her cheeks.
“Okay, let’s move on,” Jo said, waving her hand to change the subject. “What were you two talking about before I got here?”
“I was about to play wingman for Julian here, actually. Maybe get him laid for the first time in months.”
I kicked his shin under the table, but his face didn’t even budge.
Jo quirked a brow. “Oh really? Months?”
I shrugged and looked her square in the eye.
“Care to help a friend out? I’m sure there’s a bathroom we could find,” I said with a confident smile.
“Hey, hey. Not in my bar. I just had the floors redone,” Dean said, holding up his hand in protest.
I laughed. “It’d hardly be the first time that bathroom would be used for some nefarious deeds.”
Jo swallowed and glanced away.
“I’m sure there’s a woman here who would take you up on that offer, Julian. We just have to find the right one,” she said.
“I think I like the one at this table,” I pushed, feeling the effects of my second scotch starting to kick in.
She scanned the room for attractive women and tried to hide her smile. She liked when I flirted with her and yet she pretended to ignore it.
“I’m honored,” Dean joked, putting his hand over his chest. “It’s just that you’re not my type.”
I laughed and shook my head.
“What about her?” Jo asked, pointing to the left side of the bar. I turned my attention to where she was pointing. There was a pretty blonde perched on a barstool, alone and sipping on a drink. She glanced over her shoulder as I watched her, and when our eyes met, she smiled and bit down on the edge of her lip—girl code for “come on over”.
She was pretty, I’d give Jo that, and her red dress left very little to the imagination, but she wasn’t my type. I preferred leggy brunettes who played hard to get.
“Nah, not feeling it,” I said.
“Oooookay,” Jo said, turning over her other shoulder. “Her?”
She tilted her head to the right, but I couldn’t tell who she was talking about. There was a sea of people to our left, plenty of women that I would have picked up back in Boston. Back then my tastes weren’t quite so singular. Blondes, redheads, brunettes, tall, short…didn’t matter.
“Who?” I asked, squinting toward the crowd.
“The girl with the pixie cut sitting with her friends. She looks like Tinkerbell or something.”
Ah, I knew who she was talking about. The girl was gorgeous no doubt, with a sort of Emma Watson vibe. I liked Hermione just as much as the next guy, but she wouldn’t do for tonight.
I shook my head and Dean laughed.
“Picky, picky. I’m sure someone here is more than worthy of your attention if you’d only give them a chance.”
I scowled at him. “What about you, Dean? Why don’t we set you up with someone?”
“Tonight is about you, my friend. Besides, I’m a busy man. I don’t have the luxury of dating at the moment.”
“Uh oh, then that means you’re about to find the love of your life,” Jo said.
Dean flinched back. “What makes you say that?”
She laughed just as the waiter set her drink down on the table. She thanked him, took a sip, and then turned her gaze back to Dean.
“Everyone knows that when you’re least looking for love, that’s when it finds you.”
Dean turned to face the bar, slapped both hands over his eyes and called out, “I’m not looking for love!” while making a kissy face.
We laughed and Josephine reached over to grab his arms before the patrons at the bar became even more confused by his antics.
“What about you, Jo?” I asked.
She took a sip of her drink, watching me over the lip of her glass.
“What about me?”
“Are you looking for love?”
She laughed and rolled her eyes. “I plead the fifth.”
“Why?”
“Because if I say I am, then your incessant flirting will only become more relentless.”
“And if you’re not?” I asked.
“Probably the same thing.”
I laughed and nursed my scotch. Was she right? Did she have me so figured out? She certainly had the upper hand: I wanted her and she didn’t want me.
Maybe it was time to mix it up, let her know what it felt like not to have me in her back pocket, ready and waiting for a green light.
I sipped my drink and scanned the bar, trying to glance through the crowd of women with fresh eyes. Then I saw her, near the back: a girl with light brown hair, tan skin, and a killer smile. She was sitting with friends and laughing. To be honest, she looked like she could have been Josephine’s sister.
Yup. She would do just fine.